Withdrawn: Prequel to Reckless Abandonment Page 3

  …

  The day we moved into Happy Endings Resort was when I truly believed for the first time, that my short life was over. It was the second worst day of my life. I’ll never forget pulling up to our new home. It was a quiet and woody area. Any other time I would think it would be fun here, camping and being outside. But not now. Not that I know I can’t go back to my real house.

  As I glanced around the area, the only thought on my mind was wondering if all my toys are going to fit in such a small trailer. Nothing else really mattered to me at this point. I had already given up enough, losing my best friend, my dad. There is no way I’m giving up my things, too. Besides my Mom, they are the only thing I have left from my old life. They remind me of happy times. I just wish I would have had more time with him. He was a great dad. Every Friday he would take us out to eat and then to the toy store for me to get something new as long as I finished my chores for that week. When we would get home, and settle in for the night, we would play on the floor together for an hour or so before bed. We would both team up on Mom and tickle her until she said she was going to pee. Life was never the same again.

  It didn't take too long to move everything we owned into the trailer. The living room was overwhelmed with my things, but Mom didn’t fight me on it. She was just too tired. A part of her also probably knew I needed them. I wanted to remember and never forget him. Things hadn’t been easy for her either. She had been working the night shift at the hospital, picking up double and even triple shifts when she could. I was by myself a lot, but I was a big boy—the man of the house now as Dad told me before he passed away. I knew I would be fine.

  The owners of the resort, Betty, and Bruce, came over to introduce themselves. They are older than Mom but not as old as Grandpa was. Bruce has a bit of a gut and rosy cheeks. His hair is dark with small patches of gray. You can only really notice those when the sunlight hits his head just right. Betty reminds me of one of my old teachers. She has a small but firm voice. Both of their smiles are the kind that makes you want to smile, too. Like you are sharing some secret joke with them. But I refuse to smile now. Mom had already met them but she left me with her best friend, Anna, for the day. She knew I wouldn’t like this one bit. But I don’t have a choice. I’m just a kid. Mom says I can’t move out until I’m eighteen. Only ten more years to go.

  “What’s your name little one?” Betty bends down to my height and asks. We are standing out front of our new place. Head downcast, I begin kicking at the gravel in front of me.

  “Be polite and tell them your name,” my Mom sternly voices.

  “It’s Cohen,” I say quietly, but still don’t look up. Betty places her hands on my shoulder, “It’ll be okay Cohen; you’re going to like it here. We have lots of activities for you to do. We have several other kids that live here all year round and much more that come to stay just for the Summer. I promise you are going to love your new home. We take care of our own, and you’re now one of our own.”

  “I’m not yours and I don’t belong here,” I scream and turn to run into the house. I’m sure Mom is going to tan my hide for this one but I just don’t care. I stomp all the way to the door and slam it shut once I’m in.

  At least I still have my bedroom. Crawling into my new bed, I glance out the window. Mom, Betty, and Bruce are still chatting out front. Mom looks sad, but then she always looks that way these days. Sneakily, I open the window just a crack so I can hear what the grownups are talking about. They don’t notice. I’m a super spy.

  “I just don’t know how to handle him.” She runs her hand through her long brown hair. “My husband put us in such a terrible place. But I can’t tell an eight-year-old that. The sun rose and set on his father. That’s how he lived his life. I loved him, too, and that’s why I never saw it coming: his gambling issues and the great debt he put us in. I know Cohen doesn’t understand why I now work all the time or why we lost the house. Someday I hope that he will understand and not grow to hate me completely. I’m truly doing the best that I can.”

  “He loves you, sweetie. He’s a smart boy, that one, and you’re doing a fine job raising him. We will help however we can. Please know that you are like family to us now and we are all here for you.” Betty smiles at my mom reassuringly.

  “Thank you. I sure hope so. I just want him to be different from how his father was. I want him to put others first before his own wants.”

  “Sometimes it is okay to put yourself first dear. But I understand what you’re trying to say. Just remember that you are not alone here. You also need to take some time for you. I’m sure you are not processing all of this super well either.” Betty reaches over and places her hand on my Mom’s shoulder. My Mom begins to cry…again. It seems like that’s all she ever does anymore.

  “I can’t. I need to stay occupied. I need to work and get us back to where we once were.” Mom states defiantly. I like the sound of it. I want to move back to our old house.

  “I don’t think it’s so bad here. I promise after time that you won’t either. Different isn’t always a bad thing.” Betty gives another reassuring squeeze.

  “Well, I’ve got to get back inside and see what he’s up to. He’s been acting out a bit lately, destroying things.” She wipes her tears off on the back of her hand and waves to them. They return the sentiment and walk away.

  Saying a quick goodbye, she turns around and heads inside. I rush away from the window, not wanting to get caught. I hadn’t noticed when, but I realize that I’ve been tearing all the thread out of a stuffed animal my dad bought for me a couple of years ago. I look down at the tattered stuffed rabbit and I want to rip its head off. Instead, I toss it across the room. Walking over to my bed, I lay down and quickly fall asleep.

  I dream about fishing with my dad. We are out on the lake in a boat. For some reason, he gets out of the boat and begins to swim around in the water. He calls my name but I ignore him. Staying seated in the boat just watching. He splashes around and seems to be having the time of his life. With the blink of an eye, he is pulled under. I lean over the boat and scream his name. But he doesn’t respond. I’m just about to dive in when a hand shoots out of the water. I grab it and pull him up, but he’s already gone. Blood fills the water and an alligator pops his head up, eyes staring directly at me.

  I wake up with a start, screaming. My Mom races into my room. “Dad’s gone!” I shout. She rushes over to me and takes me into her arms.

  “It’ll be okay baby boy.” She attempts to soothe me. I give into her.

  “I had a bad dream,” I respond after I’ve calmed down.

  “Me too honey. It doesn’t seem to be going away.” She whispers but I catch every word. “No more scary movies. How about we go watch something happy?” She asks. I nod my head and she releases me. She orders pizza and everything about her conversation with the owners dissipates. The anger I was feeling is gone. Pizza is my favorite. Everything is better with pizza. She puts in a funny cartoon movie and we spend the rest of the evening lounging around. She lets me know that she must return to work the following evening, but at least we have tonight to spend together.

  I lay in bed that night listening to the wind blow against my window. I’m finding it hard to sleep but I force my eyes to stay closed. I’m afraid to open them, to accept what’s really going on. I hate this house, it doesn’t feel like home. I don’t want to believe that any of this is real. I wish this was just a dream and I could wake up from it. My dad is gone. Sometimes my mind tricks me and I think that he could be coming home at any moment. The last couple of weeks before he died, he was busy a lot and didn’t come home as much so it can be easy to imagine. But then I remember and I cry myself to sleep.

  …

  We settled in after a couple of annoying weeks. It’s hard to get used to a place you don’t really want to be. Mom worked more hours than I was ever awake so we didn’t get to see each other too much. I always felt angry at her and hated to be by myself. Even though I never really was.
I was always going from neighbors to neighbor’s house, spending my afternoons. My Mom had made a lot of fast friends here. She called it the village because she said they are all helping to raise me. She had to work so eventually I gave up fighting it.

  On this sunny day, I wake up with a renewed energy, fixed myself a bowl of cereal and decide to go explore. It’s Tuesday and I usually go hang out with Bruce and Betty so I stop by their place and ask them if I can play outside for a bit instead of helping with the store. They let me help stock the shelves and count the money, paying me in all the junk food I can eat. The only fun thing about living here is that. I get to meet all the new people who are passing through. There are a few regulars that occupy the trailers, but mostly it’s just people who are passing through. The owners stop in to check on me from time to time. They are nice people, but I won’t be caught dead showing them a smile. I don’t belong here. I want to go home. I’m just thankful it is Summer so I don’t have to say anything about my new place to my friends from school. They’re always bragging about their big houses and their new toys…and their dads.

  As I’m walking through the courtyard, I notice a girl around my age sitting by herself at a picnic table. I quietly round the table so that I’m facing her. I’ve never been shy. I’m brave as my mom tells me all the time. She slowly looks up and I notice the tears in her eyes. But even more, I notice the color of them. They are as blue as the ocean. I’ve never been to the ocean but I want to go someday when I’m older. I have read about it in some of my favorite books. I want to be an explorer and travel all over the world. I love to draw pictures and especially ones of scenery.

  She sniffles and I want nothing more than to wipe away her tears. When she cries, I want to cry. She’s the first girl I don’t want to be mean to. It looks as though somebody else already is. Her cry seems much different from something simple. It reminds me of mine when my dad died. It shakes your whole body and makes you feel like you could puke. It is a gut-wrenching cry that you just can’t shake. Something is wrong. I wish I could do something to take it away.

  “Why are you crying?” I ask timidly. I’m not sure if I should ask this question. Momma always tells me not to be rude. But I use my best judgment and decide it would be rude not to ask.

  “My Mommy…” she begins before stopping with a loud sob.

  Maybe her mom is sick like my grandpa was. I go to where she sits and grab her hand hoping to comfort her. Dad died in a car crash which almost seems easier in a way. It really stunk to see my grandpa get sick and not be able to come home. He didn’t want to die in the hospital. He told me that over and over, even when Mom scolded him.

  “It’ll be okay. She’ll get better.”

  I try to reassure her even though it’s probably a lie. Mom tells me not to tell lies unless I have a darn good reason. I think that this counts as a good one. I always felt better when Grandpa’s nurses lied to me and told me he was getting better.

  “I don’t think so…” She whispers.

  The tears have stopped now and I don’t want them to start back up again. So, I change the subject. Another thing I had learned from the adults in my life.

  “When I’m bigger, I’m going to take you to the ocean. Nobody is ever sad there.” I smile and she matches it, though it never fully reaches her eyes.

  “My name is Cohen. Do you want to be best friends? All my best friends are away for the summer. I’ve never been best friends with a girl but I really like you.” I watch her blue eyes turn to look at me. It makes me feel funny. I could look at them forever and never get bored.

  “I’m Brynn. I already have a best friend. She’s my sister. But if you’ll be her best friend, too, then I’ll say yes.”

  I shrug my shoulders. Today has been a weird day. Now I’m best friends with two girls. But why not, I can always use more friends. I’ve been awful lonely lately in here by myself. She jumps up with joy. I’m not sure what her sister is like, but if she’s anything like her we are all going to be the best of friends.

  Before I know it, the sadness is gone and we are playing and laughing. Not that much time has passed, maybe a half hour. The sun is still shining bright and there’s plenty of light left to spend with her. I’m happy to finally have a friend that isn’t an adult here. I was starting to get lonely. We decide to play Hide and Seek. It has been a favorite game of mine for a while. It is Brynn’s favorite game, too. Things just get better and better. She decides to hide first. I find an old, large tree and place my forehead against the trunk, feeling the cool, hardwood against my face. I breathe in deeply and count to twenty. The smell of the woods invades my nostrils. I love nature.

  When I’m done counting, I turn and look around. There must be a million places to hide. I try not to get frustrated. I’ve been working on this a lot lately. I walk around aimlessly, looking under trailer porches, up into trees and even inside of the store. She isn’t in there but Betty seems pleased to hear that I’ve found a new friend. She suggests a few places that she could be hiding. Like the park and the picnic area. I wave bye and go out to look again. After what seems like forever, I pass by the slide, glancing around as I around the corner and hear the cutest giggle.

  “Got you!” I yell as if I had found her on my own. I still don’t see her. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to face her.

  “I think I got you!” She screams back and then falls into a fit of laughter.

  “Where were you hiding?” I pout and cross my arms. I don’t like to lose.

  “Right there.” She points to a small groove where the slide twists. I shake my head, “No way.” I respond. It is too small. So instead of saying anything, she walks over, placing one foot on the back of the slide and swinging her other leg up. She’s hanging on like a spider monkey and is totally wedged in the smallest of spaces.

  “Wow! Are you in gymnastics or something? Cause that’s cheating!” I don’t want her to know that I’m secretly in awe.

  “Nope. Taught myself.” She says before jumping down, landing perfectly on her feet.

  “Well, I’ll get you next time!” I say before racing away. She catches up to me quicker than I thought she would. Her legs are short compared to mine. I’m growing like a weed as my mom says. But I like her the way she is. She’s tiny and I want to carry her around in my pocket. She is the only thing keeping me happy in here. After a few hours of play, my stomach starts to growl. So, I tell her to wait for me by the picnic tables and I run home to grab us a snack. But when I get back, she isn’t there. I think back to earlier when she pointed out which trailer she lived in. I remember it was just across the little dirt pathway from mine.

  I head back towards our trailers and find hers easily. I had never noticed anyone there before. I run up and knock on the door. It isn’t Brynn who opens but instead a girl who looks a bit older than us. She is the opposite of Brynn, with dark hair and eyes. She says nothing but just stares at me.

  “Hi, can Brynn come out to play?”

  She doesn’t respond but instead calls Brynn’s name. She refuses to even look me directly in the eye. When she turns to head away and the light hits her cheek, I see the bruises on her collarbone and face.

  “Wow, you must have had a really nasty fall. I had a bruise like that when I didn’t swing in time and got hit with a baseball at school.”

  She doesn’t exactly look athletic but Mom always harps on me about judging a book by its cover.

  “Mine wasn’t an accident,” she quietly replies, still facing away.

  Her face is solemn; she appears older than she probably is. Not necessarily in a good way. But before I can say anything back, an older woman, probably about my mom’s age, comes to the door and shoos her away.

  “Can I help you, young man?”

  She looks weathered, much like the picnic table where I met Brynn. Lots of wrinkles, dark circles under her eyes and wearing extremely ratty clothes.

  “I just wanted to play with Brynn.”

  I feel suddenl
y intimidated. Her eyes are black and she’s looking right through me. I’m feeling the same way that I do right before my mother punishes me, scared and ashamed for doing something I shouldn’t have. Except, I haven’t done anything wrong. I suddenly want to run straight home without looking back. I feel like Hansel in the scary book my mom reads me about the gingerbread house. I should have left a trail of bread crumbs so Mom would know where to find me.

  “She can’t come outside now. Run along.”

  And I do just that. I dart from the porch and run back home, locking the door behind me. I live across the street from a witch. I glance out the window just to make the scary lady didn’t follow me. When I do, I see Brynn peering through the blinds of her front window. I pull the blinds up and shyly wave.

  This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  Chapter 2

  Cohen Age 12

  We only have a few days left of freedom before we’re back among the crowded halls to start 7th grade. Brynn and I decide to spend the afternoon down by the lake to cool off. I ride across the street to get her, after kissing Mom on the forehead goodbye. She has a rare day off from work but she’s in bed trying to catch up on all the sleep she has missed out on this week. I knock on the door and she answers immediately, letting me know she’ll meet me down by the lake and promptly slamming the door in my face before I can say a word. I’ve learned just how moody girls are from my mother so I don’t pay her any mind. She’s been like this a lot lately. I asked Mom about it and her only explanation was “hormones.” Whatever that means. I’d gone through puberty the Summer before and I certainly don’t get emotional all the time. Girls.